


If It's Not Too Late

by AvengTris



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengTris/pseuds/AvengTris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha comes home to find a bloodied, beaten, defeated Maria on her bed. Along with the piece of her heart that the other woman stole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It's Not Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where this came from. It just sort of...happened. Meh. I do like the idea of these two together though. Much better than Nat and Bruce (sorry, just saying). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. It's been a while. The title comes from the song "If You" by BIGBANG which is GORGEOUS and you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IaobolPNX8 
> 
> Thank you for reading this and let me know your feedback! This isn't beta'd by the way, so I know there are mistakes. :)

**W** hen I walked up to the door of my apartment, I saw that the name _ROMANOFF_ next to my door was slightly crooked. I frowned, feeling my heart skip a beat. There was only one person who did that and I hadn’t seen her in a year. My stomach curdled, my heart pounded. How could she be here? I made a point of never revealing my real name, my address, or anything personal about myself to the clients. I had never broken that rule. I had definitely never done anything as stupid as that. And I had never _ever_ fallen in love with a client. Because that was not just stupid, that was suicide.

            But I had fallen for this her.

            Beautiful, intelligent, and one hundred percent deadly.

            And then she had left. Taking a piece of my heart with her.

            I never thought I’d see her again.

            I unlocked my door, the hinges squeaking slightly. The apartment was dark. Dark and silent. But my AC had been shut off, inviting the heat of New York spring in. It had cooled off since the sun went down, but the humidity still lingered. I closed the door behind me, latching the bolt. I took off my shoes, the heels clicking against the tile as I set them off to the side. The floor was cool against the bottom of my warm feet. My heart was in my throat, my entire body buzzing with nerves and energy. What did this mean? Why was she here now?

            I made my way towards my bedroom, pausing at the doorway. It was dark but there was the gentle kiss of silver light from the moon peeking through the blinds. And in that dim light was a shape on my bed. Fear made my skin prickle. Slowly, far too slow, I ventured closer to the bed. It was her.

            Maria.

            She was lying on my bed. Her chest rising and falling rapidly. She wore dark clothing, but that didn’t hide the shine of blood. Her face was bruised and cut up. Her dark hair drenched in more blood. I brought one hand to my lips in horror as I stared down at her. I touched her cheek gently and whispered, “Maria.”

            When she didn’t respond, I patted her cheek, “Maria. Maria, wake up.”

            In the next second her hand enclosed around my wrist, squeezing in warning. I froze, afraid that if I moved she would snap my wrist. Maria’s eyes slowly flickered open. She searched until she saw my face. There was a moment of blankness before her eyes widened a fraction in recognition. She released my wrist and let her hand fall back on the bed. I moved over and switched on the lamp next to my bed. The yellow light flood over her and I had to bite my lip to stifle a gasp. She looked like hell, covered in blood. As though she had found herself at the gates of hell and fought her way out. Why she had come here after taking a stroll through hell, I didn’t know.

            “Turn the fucking light off,” Maria hissed.

            “No, I need to make sure you aren’t going to die in my bed first,” I replied, wincing at her sharp tone but ignoring it.

            I made her sit up and slowly stripped her. The action brought back memories, but unlike then, now it was nothing pleasant. Instead, I dreaded peeling away each layer of clothing because it revealed Maria’s ravaged body. The fact that she was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. I bit my bottom lip and carefully kept my poker face in place. Once Maria was naked, I wandered into my bathroom to grab a bucket, rags, first-aid kit, and hot water. Along with a couple Advil because this looked like it hurt and I’m sure she needed something. Maria gratefully took the Advil before lying back down on my bed. She eyed my as I dipped the rags in the water and began to wipe away the access blood, grime, and whatever the hell else was on her skin. I could feel her sharp blue eyes piercing through my skin. We hadn’t exchanged any words, or looked each other in the eye. Not once. The silence was deafening, the tension suffocating. Memories kept pinching the edge of my mind but I ignored them. Right now, this was more important. Petty words and feelings could be left alone. For now.

            But of course, Maria had to be Maria and said, “I don’t have any money.”

            I shot her a vicious look, “Did I ask for money?”

            “No,” she replied.

            “There you go,” I snapped and resumed my work, being less mindful about how much pain she was in.

            “Do you have a client waiting for you tonight or something?” Maria asked.

            “No, I don’t,” I stopped and looked down at her. “Why are you asking such stupid questions? Are you trying to piss me off so I’ll finish the job of whoever did this to you? Or do you just take pleasure in stabbing me over and over again with your words?”

            “Neither,” Maria chuckled, then winced. “Maybe a bit of the former. I don’t know. I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve been around someone as expressive as you.”  
            “What a fantastic fucking excuse,” I snapped. Over the years, I had learned how to take care of my body after a particularly rough client. Though I had never been as bashed up as Maria, I still knew the basic tricks. It took a while, patching her back together. And I knew that it was only the surface that I had managed to clean up. Inside, she was far more damaged and fucked up then she let on. And she would never let me close enough to try and help her. Just me stitching up a knife wound was a miracle that I never thought would happen. I sighed, “What happened?”

            Maria stayed silent.

            “Come on, I deserve to know at leas the basics as to why you’re covered in blood on my bed,” I whined, picking up a corner of the sheets. “Do you know how much these cost, by the way? And you just fucking bleed on them like you have some sort of right to bleed wherever you want to.”

            “Seriously?” Maria arched a brow.

            “What? I slept in these sheets, I was very fond of them,” I replied. That and they held the memory of us.

            Maria sighed, “There was a war between two rival gangs. And I was part of one side. And my side lost.”

            “Holy shit,” I breathed.

            “Nothing serious. Unless you count the fact that everyone is dead. I don’t even know how I fucking made it out alive. All I know is that I was willing to die tonight. Willing to sacrifice myself for what I believed in. To protect the boss. I made that pledge with Steve, to protect him until the end. And then the asshole shoved me down a sewer and I wasn’t protecting them, they were protecting me.” Her eyes glistened brighter than usual and she closed them tightly. “Motherfucking assholes.”

            I waited until her muscles relaxed slightly before asking, “Why are you here?”

            “Hmm?” she opened her eyes to look at me.

            “Why are you here? In my apartment?” I asked her.

            “Why are you asking?” Maria frowned.

            “Don’t play that fucking game with me,” I spat, the rage and hurt and everything else battling to spill out of me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Why are you here, lying on my bed, seeking my help? Why did you come to me in your desperate, dying moment when all I am is a _whore_?”

            I could feel Maria flinch. She didn’t respond. The silence brought a new wave of fury over me, “Fuck! You are such a _fucking bitch_! _Ya tebya nenavizhu. Ya nenavizhu tebya tak chertovski mnogo. No pochemu ya do sikh por lyublyu tebya?_ ”

            Silence.

            “My Russian isn’t that good so I have no idea what you just said,” Maria said quietly, looking slightly alarmed.

            I ran my hand through my curly hair, realizing that it was still smooth from getting re-dyed that morning. I shook my head, “Just forget it.”

            “Natalia,” Maria whispered, grabbing my wrist.

            I yanked my hand away, “I’ll get you some clothes. And I’ll change the sheets so you aren’t sleeping in blood. You can spend the night here. But by morning you have to be gone. I’ll help you get wherever you need to go but then that’s it. We’re done.”

 

I sat on the edge of the bed, stirring some hot oatmeal. Maria was sitting up and patiently waiting, somehow still beautiful despite her wounds. I had helped her slip into a silk black robe that I had stored in my closet. Once I deemed it cool enough, I slid it towards her. Maria ate slowly, keeping her eyes on me. I kept my own on my hands in my lap. More silence before a quiet, “So, how’ve you been doing?”

            I whirled on her, “Like you haven’t been keeping tabs on me.”

            “I want to hear it from you,” Maria replied, looking sheepish.

            “Too bad,” I muttered.

            “Natalia,” Maria reached out to touch my shoulder.

            I stood, crossing my arms; “It’s Natasha to you.” I turned to walk out of the room.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “You’re what?” I paused, looking over my shoulder.

            “I’m sorry,” Maria looked at me through her lashes, “I didn’t mean it. What I said. But Hydra…at that time Hydra went after Steve’s girlfriend and his best friend. Brain washed his friend and sent his girlfriend back in pieces. Wasn’t the first. I knew that if Hydra figured out about you, they would do something terrible to you. And I – I couldn’t let that happen Nat. I couldn’t. So, I ended us. I ended it to you safe.”

            “So now you’re a fucking hero?” I strode forward and grabbed the robe, using it as leverage to haul her torso up and away from the pillows. The oatmeal crashed to the floor. “You insult me, use all of my weaknesses against me, and then you say you did that to _protect me_? Seriously? No! You don’t get to do that; you don’t get to say that. Because you can’t just try and cover up what you said, what you did. Yes, I’m a prostitute. Yes, I have sex for money. But you know, _you know_ , that I didn’t get into this because I had a fucking choice. I was sold, sold like some sort of _thing_ to the highest bidder. Then I was trained to be like this. I never had any choice. You think I wanted this? No. No, I didn’t.

            “I loved you, Maria,” I whispered, letting her go as the anger left me in one breath. “I loved you. The moment I walked through that door, I was hooked. No one had ever treated me like you did. No one had ever looked at me the way you did. You shared your secrets with me, and I shared mine with you. And then you just through it all in my face. It hurt, more than anything those men had ever done to me. What you did to me was far worse.”

            Maria touched my cheek, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m no hero, what I did was wrong. I didn’t know what else to do. It was the wrong thing. I’m sorry.”

            I tried to yank away from her touch, but she grabbed me. Despite being injured, she was still strong. I could have broken away, if I wanted to. But I was so tired of fighting. And so I merely struggled feebly against her as her body pressed against mine, her fingers intertwining in my curls. I could see the array of purple, blue, red, pink colours over her face. I could see each individual lash and the diamond shaped tears stuck to them. I could see the fear, the love, the hurt, the guilt, and the pain in those baby blue eyes. And then her slips slid against mine and I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see anything.

            The kiss was hungry, clashing teeth and tongue. A year of starvation will do that to a person. But the kiss smoothed out, becoming deeper and more raw. It lit my blood on fire, and it hurt like fucking hell. I wanted to pull away, to run because this just wasn’t a good idea. Maria was stuck in the middle of a gang war. I was a prostitute. Nothing good could come out of this. But as Maria’s hand found my core, I found myself not caring and simply falling as I cried out in ecstasy.

 

I spent the morning applying a shit-ton of make-up over Maria’s bruises and dressed in her clothes that were not too flashy, but not incredibly shabby. I slid into my own civilian out fit, tucking my cherry red hair under a beanie. We walked to my door, with Maria’s arm wrapped around my waist. While it looked casual, I knew it was the only thing keeping her from falling. I was just about to open the door when Maria’s grip tightened on my waist. I looked at her to find her studying me with eyes more piercing than a knife. “Are you sure about this?”

            If I did this, I would violate my contract. I could be killed. Ivan would never let me come back alive. I was betraying him by walking out. I was his most popular, valuable asset and by doing this, I was basically stealing thousands of dollars from him. But as I looked into Maria’s eyes, as I felt her body heat against mine, I just couldn’t imagine living as I had this past year without her in it. Not again. I licked my lips and nodded, “Yes.”

            “We could die,” Maria pointed out.

            “We are already dying,” I replied. “Everyday we walk closer towards death. But now at least, we’ll be together.”

            “So cheesy,” Maria smiled. “I like it.”

            I smiled back and opened the door towards a future that I could no longer see. I would be blind. But at least I had Maria.


End file.
